After the Wilderness
By Gordon Kearns
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Chapter 9
Inside Bollinger's Resort about forty people were gathered before the big-screen television in the main lobby. Most --perhaps thirty --were clothed, an escalating trend as the day wore on. It was as if anticipating a disaster; they wanted to be prepared to depart on short notice if events warranted. The media representatives and some of the curious admittedly took the tensions of the moment as an excuse to cover their dignity. They were watching with avid interest the twenty-four hour satellite news station. In the rooms, those not watching the news were mostly already packed and in bed in anticipation of a dawn departure for the security of their proper-world homes. Very few of the regular guests and the curious planned to remain on the resort grounds through Monday morning. The fear of the unknown, of ten-thousand crusaders ensconced outside the gates, of Goodman Gillette's threatening words religiously captured by television cameramen, all combined for a very uncomfortable state of affairs at Bollinger's.
Upstairs in the closed dining room, now dark except for a corner emergency light and the glow from the kitchen, seven people were seated around the large family table by the windows facing out over the night-blanketed lawn and lake. At the moment, of course, looking through those windows returned only their own worried countenances. On another table a portable black and white television cast a vampirish glow on the group. As he had been for the past several days, Darren Bollinger was dressed (sport-shirt, casual slacks, etc.), but the rest --Jack Bollinger, Phil and Doris MacClean, Jerry and Marnie Schulman, and Marianne Flanery --were nude --in deliberate defiance of the specter haunting the halls of the inn. Steadfast Phil Wagonner manned the desk and kept an eye on activities in the lobby. There was a phone on the wall of the dining room with an inter-com line to the front desk. In case of emergency, Phil could reach the Bollingers quickly.
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As she drove toward the gates - her window open to better hear the amplified voice from the stage -- Marianne had been stunned to find herself as well as her young daughter condemned by the famous Evangelist for All. A long-banked spirit burst to flame in her heart; and immediately on parking her car at the main lodge, the attractive, rising young female executive of Flanery Enterprises stripped to the skin and strode proudly into the busy lobby of Bollinger's. She was met at the desk by Jack Bollinger, who immediately whisked her toward the stairs leading to the dining room. As she walked by, a sharp reporter remembered her from an interview assignment two years previous when she was honored as California's Young Woman Executive of the Year. The word spread quickly and noisily, and a loud rush of newsfolk raced for the stairs after her. But they were frozen in their positions when on an impulse, she abruptly swung around to face them and struck a most fetching theatrical pose, her pixieish, naked beauty for the moment overwhelming their sense of purpose. A blinding series of camera flashes ensued, and then she turned again and she and Jack quickly continued on their way before the first "How do you respond ..." sailed at her from the excited group at the bottom of the stairs.
On a small divan in a corner of the lobby a nude Brad Sargeant had been sitting with his yet dressed father (gray three piece suit, naturally). Art had only arrived a few minutes earlier and met his son in the lobby as he was watching the news reports on t.v.
"That was one of them, wasn't it? One of the ones Gillette accused of being a witch?" Brad had asked.
"It sure seems so. The reporters were calling her Marianne Flanery -- very definitely one of Goodman Gillette's 'Gang of Four.' She's got a lot of audacity, you've got to give her that."
"This could get pretty mean, couldn't it? I mean, it's like a lynch mob outside the gates."
"That's why I closed out my business upstate in a hurry. When I heard about the bunch gathering here, I thought I'd better get back to you. If anything blows up, I'd want to be at your side."
"Do you think they'd really come in here and drag out that Flanery woman and the other three Gillette wants?"
"Forewarned is forearmed. I suspect she's surrounded by some of the goons in this place by now. That guy who took her upstairs was a pretty husky character. I don't know of many who'd want to tangle with him."
"Yeah. And he's just the old man, Jack Bollinger. The guy who runs the resort is his son Darren; he's built like an ox."
"That would be the witch Rachel's husband, wouldn't it?"
"Oh? You're using the reverend's words now? The last time we talked, you said she was a fairy."
Art laughed. "Fairy; witch. Doesn't much matter. Neither are supposed to be human."
"Are you still out to get her?"
"To ...investigate her."
"And if it turns out she is magic, as everybody seems to be saying?"
"It's almost an academic point now. The whole world thinks she's magic, so whether she is or not the effect is the same. If people think reality can be suspended, we'll have a big problem keeping a cap on things. The weirdos will be popping out all around --you know: Black Magic, human sacrifice ... that kind of crud." He laughed again, sardonically. "Folks will be going around nude on the streets claiming it's their right as 'magic' people. No, Brad, this whole 'magic' business has to be stopped one way or another."
"But dad, what would happen if this so-called knight Gillette has sneaking around inside the resort did manage to get a hold of one of them? What if he did get Marianne Flanery or Rachel Bollinger and drag her out?They're liable to burn her at the stake. That would be awful."
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"Can't say I especially approve of burning at the stake. But in a way it might ...well, not be so bad in the end. That hungry mob might be satisfied with their ounce of blood ...and it would definitely put an end to any more 'magic' stuff. Black magic would lose its glamour for the weirdos."
"You don't think she's entitled to civil rights and due process like normal citizens?"
"Usually, son, I'm one of those old cops who respect individual rights; you should know that by now. The Miranda rule doesn't bother me at all. But these people are so damn flagrant with their claim of magic powers. We simply can't allow that to be made acceptable by our generous democratic code of law. There can only be one truth. When somebody plays with that ...well, as far as I'm concerned they're asking for trouble."
"What about the Flanery woman? the one who just came in. On the news they said she was a respected business woman from an old line family in California. There's a lot of influential people who'd be upset if she were roughed up and put to the stake. Besides, what does she have to do with your fairy in the hospital back home? This woman hasn't been popping up allover the world."
"On that last point: I understand there might be witnesses to her being able to do that very thing. On the other: her display a few minutes ago on that staircase will, I bet, alienate many of those 'influential people' down to the core. When she did that, she in effect admitted her complicity in all this. It was like she was defying the straight people of the world."
"I... I can't believe I'm hearing you right. You've been a law officer all your life. I can't believe you'd stand still and watch some guy drag Rachel Bollinger or Marianne Flanery out to those lawless vultures. You can't be on the side of Goodman Gillette. He represents all that militant arrogance you've been against forever."
Art Sargeant was thoughtful for a moment. "I... yes, I guess it would be against my code of right and wrong and law and order." A pause. "But I have to tell you, son, it splits me down the middle; that's how much my hatred for 'magic' is. When ...if it came down to it I'd have to ...weigh it out pretty carefully." He laughed again. "But I don't think it matters much anyway. I doubt I'll be involved in it. one way or the other. I'm just one guy; I wouldn't be able to stop that army out there if they set their minds to a single purpose. 'Discretion is the better part of valor' --isn't that what they say?" He turned to look at his son. "Which reminds me: besides this 'witch' business, it sounds like they're after the whole idea of Bollinger's nudist camp. If they do crash the barriers, they're going to be out to get anybody they see naked. I'd suggest you wear clothes from here on. Most everybody here is dressed now anyway. When I registered, that Jack Bollinger said they weren't holding people to the nude rule while the crusaders are out there."
Brad Sargeant stood up and rubbed his fingers through his hair. "I'll ...think about it, dad. I... I'm not sure that's what I want to do."
Upstairs in the dining room, Marianne and the Schulmans were brought up to the moment on the pertinent events of the past week, including Phil MacClean's visit with Rachel Bollinger and her benefactors Denise and Jeffrey --and how Rachel had naively stumbled into learning to wave from her experience with Patty.
"I think Rachel should be secure," Phil MacClean said. "At least I hope so. The three of them were aware of the news flap surrounding her escapades in Atlanta --as of last night, that is. I would presume they'd have continued to keep up with the news and know to stay put for a while."
"God, I hope so," Darren said, rubbing his forehead nervously.
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Doris MacClean: "Marianne, did Patty talk about Rachel at all when she talked to you?"
Marianne: "Only as a good friend. Patty seemed quite taken with Rachel. She let me know that she'd taken Rachel in her wave, but she gave no indication she was even aware of Rachel's having the same ability. Still, I think if she'd heard this morning's reports tying in the nude red-head of Atlanta with Bollinger's Resort, she'd probably have drawn the connection with her friend; she'd have said something. No, unless she thought to watch t.v. or pick up a paper, she'd be completely oblivious of the present state of affairs."
Jack: "Then you think Patty could very well show up here right in the middle of this mess tomorrow, as she said."
Marianne, worried: "I... I'm afraid she will."
Jerry Schulman: "What about Patrick? Don't you think he might see the reports and maybe stop her?"
Marianne: "Patty said she wasn't going to see him until tomorrow ... here."
Jerry: "Then he'll be dropping in in the middle of all this, too."
Jack: "Most likely, I'd bet. Even if he did catch the news, he'd be concerned for Patty's welfare."
Phil MacClean: -Then as I see it, what we have to do is get with them as soon as possible after each one arrives and surround them with allies so the knight of the New Crusade, whoever he is, can't get at them."
Jack: "There's no way of telling when and where they'll come."
Jerry: "We'll just have to stay alert for the first glimpse of them. We have a little advantage over the knight: we know what they look like. He'll have pictures, probably. But we know them in the flesh."
Marnie: "In the meantime, we'd better keep Marianne here under tight guard. He knows she's here. I'd bet he was in the lobby when she arrived."
Jack: "I'm sure he was."
Marianne, laughing nervously: "He couldn't miss; I put on a good show for him."
Marnie Schulman: "But you're human, Marianne ...I mean that wave stuff: you can't do it like Patrick or your Patty, can you?"
Marianne: "I can't do it at all.-
Marnie: "That makes you more vulnerable than the others; you can't just disappear if things get rough."
Marianne: "In that sense, I suppose I am. But according to old Goodman, his knight has a secret weapon against the wave." A beat. "I hope you all realize that everybody --except for the reporters, maybe ...and the knight, of course --that everybody else on the grounds is in some danger. The mood out there is ...mean. I can attest to that.-
Darren: "She's right. If we hadn't been so worried about Rachel and all ...I mean, if we'd been thinking clearly, we'd have shut the place down and sent everybody home when the first pickets showed up. That's probably what we should do now ...at least the first thing in the morning. Send them all home --guests, reporters --all of them. It would take the steam out of their sails if the resort was empty."
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Phil: "I doubt it. As long as there's a big crowd out there the media will be on hand; and as long as the media is out there the big crowd will be on hand. Goodman Gillette has declared himself. He's not going to allow the issue to fade away. Anyway, I don't think the knight is going to be pushed out so easy. He'd hang around in the rooms --or out in the forest, if necessary --looking for a chance to get one of his targets." He turned to Darren. "You might be right in one way, though. There'd be less chance of people getting hurt if you closed the shop."
Jerry: "I think it's going to take care of itself. The feel I got as I glad-handed my way through the lobby and out on the lawn." He chuckled. "You don't think I'm going to miss the opportunity to be seen by all these media types; they're our business, after all... anyway, the feel I got is that there's going to be a parade out of here in the morning. Even most of those big-nosed curiosity seekers will take off, and those who don't will be in clothes so as not to be mistaken for us evil nudies. There will be a few others, too --Darren, you and Jack should know this --about a dozen or so who'll stay around ...and in the buff at that. Principles, you know."
The phone on the wall buzzed. Jack moved quickly to answer it. After exchanging a few words with Phil Wagonner, he returned to the table. "It gets complicateder and complicateder," he said, shaking his head slowly. "We'd better get downstairs, Darren. Phil said the phone's been ringing incessantly with calls for reservations. From all over the country, Sunshine Club members mostly, and sympathizers. Seems they want to put on a show of support."
Darren: "I don't know if that's all so good. It could just give Goodman Gillette more grist for his mill... maybe an excuse to take his New Crusade into a real war ...with Bollinger's Resort as the battleground." He put his head in his hands for a moment. Then, lifting his head again, he said, "There's no way things will ever be normal here again." Then he rose to join his father heading for the door.
As he was about to walk out, Jack turned to the group. "Look, find some good place to hide Marianne. I thought about my cabin, but that would isolate her. I don't think that would be so good."
Marnie: "How about our room? We're on the lower floor --two ways out; and we're close enough to the lobby in case we need you guys."
Three thousand miles away: Washington, D.C., the White House, the Oval Room, the conversation/conference area by the fireplace (a circular grouping: long couch, two smaller settees, and chair --all done in colonial styled wood and upholstery). Those present: the President, his chief of staff, the Attorney General, the Speaker of the House, the junior senator from California, and the party chairman.
President: "What the hell happened? Friday, the country was cheering the brave heroine of Atlanta; now suddenly, it seems she's the wicked witch of the west."
Chief of Staff: ."Goodman Gillette's what happened. He picked up on the 'nude' thing, and when they tied her to a nudist colony, he had himself one hell of an issue for spreading his gospel to the more moderate religious conservatives. He gave the people a bad guy to talk about. After all, what WAS her motive for running the streets of a big city naked? You know how people love to hate bad guys."
President: -That s.o.b., what the hell's he after?-
Party chairman: "You know damned good and well what he's after. The name of the game is 'Power.'
President: "Yeah: power; power over the president; power over the whole damned country. That little bastard's gone too far this time. I'll have his ass on this one. Let's rattle a saber ---show him who's boss.-
Chief of Staff: -You mean call out the militia or some such?"
Senator: "I'd go easy on that one. You'd have to go over the governor's head ...for an action in his own state. He's said he wasn't going to use the guard. He's not even sending in reinforcements for the State Police at the scene. There's all of ten patrolmen facing ten thousand good crusaders."
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President: "What about the Marines?"
Attorney General: "Look, let's cool it a minute "
President: "Cool it! We've got a damned rebellion blowing up in El Salvador; the Israelis are planting a flock of new settlements in the desert; the Japanese just slapped a new duty on manufactured imports; the 'killing fields' are popping up again in Cambodia ...hell; and I have to attend to Goodman Gillette and some damned nudist colony."
Party chairman: "That's politics. You know that. You can double-talk your way through the big stuff. As long as you don't do anything totally stupid, it won't matter. But how you handle morality and modesty and nakedness and scandal, this is what elections ride on; more than one government has fallen on the issue of turpitude."
President: "But hell... those nudist crazies? They've been around for a couple hundred years; nobody ever bothers ..."
Party chairman: "Even liberals are uncomfortable with the idea of avowed nudism. The fundamentalists get absolutely livid about it. Ordinarily, as long as they stay out of the way --and don't make waves ...well, out of sight; out of mind. But this red-head made waves ..."
President: "By stopping a felony in progress ..."
Party chairman: "By making headlines. The poor broad gave Gillette a target."
Attorney General: "Okay, how about seeing where this is headed? Has anyone tried to talk to the good reverend?"
Chief of Staff: "Not answering."
Attorney General: "Not even the president?"
Chief of Staff: "Especially the president."
President: "As long as he doesn't talk with me, I'm on the hook. If he talks to me and I tell him to back off, he's on the hook ...especially if something goes wrong. As it is, I have to react to whatever he decides to do ...and that's a game I can't win, damn him."
Chief of Staff: "Right. There'll be an outcry if the president comes down hard on the New Crusade, and there'll be an outcry from liberals if he allows the crusade to stamp on civil rights."
Party chairman: "Not to forget: Goodman Gillette was your most vociferous and forceful supporter, Mr President. 'Grass roots leadership'; 'Appreciate the standards Mr. Average American believes in'; 'A clean country is a strong country'; 'Give the country back to the righteous.' How many times did you say those things, Mr. President?
The president rubbed his eyes wearily.
Party chairman: "And everyone of those slogans was originated by guess who."
President: .Yeah, yeah. Goodman Gillette."
Party chairman: .Fact is, you owe him your presidency."
Chief of Staff: .That doesn't mean he has to follow the reverend off the edge of a cliff."
Speaker of the House: "How far do you think he's going to take this crusade of his? Trash the resort, do you think? Christ! His four 'witches': you don't think he'd really 'burn' any of them, do you?"
Senator: "I think you have to consider that a possibility."
Attorney General: "If it's a possibility, we have to consider where that scenario would take us."
President: "If it comes to real violence, we have to make sure we're on the other side. The people would have me impeached if I supported burning at the stake, for Christ's sake."
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Chief of Staff: "Just for the sake of argument --I wonder what the reaction of the public would be if their was a killing. Would they really be all that upset?"
Party Chairman: "That's a good question. On the surface, they'd be appalled. But keep in mind, old Goodman Gillette is in charge. HE wouldn't burn anyone. If it happened, it would be an uprising of the righteous indignant against the evil that's been eroding our country's moral fiber. Even militant conservatives would go to bat to preserve those precious 'civil rights' for obviously good, just, and upstanding middle class Americans. But when it comes down to the nitty-gritty of standing up for a morally bankrupt nudist colony, and four brazen nudies, who --if they aren't witches --are sure acting the part of agents of Satan, and --if they don't have Satanic powers like flying around the world invisibly --are sure putting on a lot of scarey magic ...well, they might fuss, but most Americans aren't going to make a full-blown personal issue out of it."
President: "SO you're saying we just sit back and let it run its course. I don't think that sounds so good either. If I were my opponent next election, I'd sure pick on the idea of the president condoning the burning of witches in this day and age." He rose and poured himself a cup of coffee from the insulated carafe on the cart by the fireplace. "O.k., so I can't fight him. At least I can send in the Marines and just put a stop to the whole thing ..."
Senator: "There's some pretty fanatic people out there. There'd be those who'd challenge the armed force. Then what are you going to do, blast good, righteous, grass roots Americans with M-16's, rubber bullets, water cannon? Maybe turn the doberman gang loose on them?"
Speaker of the House: "What if the president made a personal appearance out there?"
Party chairman: "Pardon my bluntness, but ...well, the president's not the most ...a ...charismatic speaker in politics."
President: "Hell, don't tiptoe around. We all know they'd razz me off the stage. My image as the Great Leader of the Western World couldn't take that." A pause. "Damn it, there's not a speaker in the world who could turn a righteous mob once they set their minds on the 'moral thing to do.'-- once the --what's that word? --oh, yes: charismatic Goodman Gillette got them going." To the Party chairman: .So what do you want me to do? Sit on my damned hands and let Goodman Gillette take over the course of law and order in this country?"
Party chairman: "How about that! You're almost sounding presidential." A beat. "Whoa! No insult intended. What I mean is 'sounding like a president' might ease your conscience, but it would lose the next election. You can't afford to go against Goodman Gillette. He's got the people who will decide the next one to occupy this office on his side. Go against him; and you go against the 'grass roots righteous' "
President: "But if I let some naked bastard get executed without a fair, legal trial, they got me for not 'upholding the Constitution of the United States of America.'.
Party chairman: "Come on, my friend, calm down ..."
President: "Easy for you to say; your neck's not on the damned block."
Party chairman: "You forget: if you foul up, you-know-who is thrown out with the bath water. Look, you've been playing at president so long you lost sight of what got you here in the first place ...and it damn-sure wasn't your presidential principles. Nobody gets elected on presidential principles. You got here by acting whatever part people wanted you to act. You
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got here by saying all the right things. You got here with words, my man --words that said the right thing, but that obligated you to nothing. When the press accused you of being insensitive to the poor, you told the world --with a tear in your eye --that no human should live in the streets, and that you, as president, would always consider their welfare. And then when you were elected, you let congress worry about that crap, while you kept insisting you loved the poor of spirit and pocketbook. As long as you SAY the right things, that's all that matters."
President: "So what do I SAY now that won't hang me on the issue of morality or civil rights."
Party chairman: "Easy. You know the way. Support the New Crusade. Line out its principles ...and, of course, add a few good ones of your own. Tell the country how fortunate it is to have someone like the upright Goodman Gillette standing up for their outrage against the fornicators (and so and so and so) who would undermine the moral structure of our great (and so and so and so) and God-fearing nation. Say how you wish you could be there with those thousands of decent Americans sacrificing all to exercise their right ...nay, obligation ...of free speech (and so and so and so). And then condemn those immoral idolitrists (and so and so and so) who frolic naked and encourage innocent youth from the ways of ...a ...righteousness (and so and so and so). Go right down the line identifying ...better, endorsing Goodman Gillette and his New Crusade. In this way you rise above him. You have deigned to give him YOUR approval. And then --get this --and then you tag on the briefest tag --shibboleth, if you will, which releases you from any identification with a 'burning' or lynching or killing of any sort. You merely say, 'Of course, as a good Christian, I cannot condone violence; and I would sincerely expect Reverend Gillette and the fine Americans of the New Crusade would refrain from any action that would run counter to the laws of our land." And then repeat the whole first part and not mention the disclaimer again. It has been said. No matter what happens after, you never agreed to violence --even though you did everything this side of sin to abet the whole effort. By the way, you'll be able to count on Gillette: if there is, say, a killing, you can bet he'd be able to rationalize it into Christian doctrine and the rule of law, which you could always cite in a debate -- while adding, 'I had hoped no one would be hurt; I am opposed to violence as everyone knows."'
President: "Damn! You're right. I forgot the good art of politics. Say, I could carry it further; you know, so they wouldn't think I was coming down too hard on the violence. How about sending a couple damned truckloads of food and blankets and stuff to the crusaders?"
Back to California. East and north of Bakersfield, near Bernard Station, in the foothill forests of the Sierra Nevada, outside the boundary fence for Bollinger's Resort, in a luxury converted over-the-road bus stationed just to the south of the stage --itself a few short steps south of the main gate to the resort, four well-dressed men sat in serious discussion in a circle made by three couches and a reclining chair in the living room section of the bus. Goodman Gillette relaxed comfortably in the reclining chair, the back only slightly tilted, but the foot-rest high enough to ease any strain on Goodman's legs. Seated randomly on the couches were the minister's three closest aides, members of his famous "war cabinet."
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Aide #1: "The groundwork has been well established by our chapters in all the major cities of the country --mostly keyed to the publicity of the past couple days, of course. Those rural and urban and suburban areas where fundamentalism is in control joined us readily. They were all too aware and concerned about the moral decay besetting our society. Between them and our own group the lesser inclined to activism were 'urged' into enlisting in the cause. Under the lead of our organization, your plans were followed assiduously. Attention was easily skewed from the heroics of the red-head to the diabolic nature of her 'magic' --and then expanded to the fertile breeding grounds of satanism: the nudist camps. We worked primarily on people's inborn attraction to superstition. Even those sophisticated yuppie snobs, when you get down to cases, are like everybody else: they're all afraid of 'end of the world' talk. They talk a good game, but whenever there's been a fanatic 'end of the world' scare, they watched the calendar like the rest of us mortals. They may not admit it, but these witches shake their security ...not all black and white, you know. Everybody worries about 'what if.' So we gave it to them. 'WHAT IF they really are witches? WHAT IF there is such a thing as the Anti-Christ? WHAT IF the final battle is being fought? WHAT IF the end of the world is almost on us?' We worked on the weird stuff the red-head pulled in Atlanta. We went to them where they lived, played, and worked --in subways, in supermarket lines, in barber shops, in beauty salons, in health centers, in cocktail lounges, in bridge clubs, in offices. We got to the ministers, the conservative priests. We had great cooperation from our agents in the media. We've bombarded the major wire services; we've faxed everywhere. Our people on network news and the newspaper syndicates have pressed the theme: 'It's here; it's now.'"
Gillette: "Our years of preparation, of proselytizing, of courting Mr. Average American have pointed to this day, boys. Those other glitzy evangelists preyed on the vulnerable, excluding run-of-the-mill Americans who don't fall for miracle cures and fire and brimstone sermons and religious devisiveness. We built our army from the innocent gullible, too --BUT we reached out to the fundamental grass roots in all beliefs as well. We invited the Catholics; we welcomed the Jews, we took in all Lutheran synods ...hell, my boys, we even reached out successfully to the atheists. We didn't try to convert them to OUR way. We only ever preached honesty between folks and old fashioned moral righteousness. Boys, there are precious few religious leaders as universally respected as yours truly. That's not vanity; that's fact. The rank and file American trusts my sense of honor, will listen to me, and if I play out my hand wisely, they will follow my lead in a crisis.
"And the little red-head was kind enough to provide us with our crisis. We've built a leadership team of thousands in all walks of life. It's taken years of patience and 'understanding,' but it's paid off. Our team is ready to make its move. This, boys, is the time."
Aide #2: .And the wheels are in motion; the blitzkrieg is already rolling. Your speech got total network coverage. The cameras are poised throughout the camp here ready for our signal. You saw the action in the resort earlier when Marianne Flanery arrived, so you know they're on the job 'inside' too. We were the sum total of the late night news allover the country. But we've emphasized the west in the last couple hours; you know, specials on witchcraft, interviews with experts, OUR experts: concerned polititians, business people, priests, ministers, rabbis, doctors, lawyers -- all pounding the themes of satanism, witchcraft, fornication, sexual perversion, the Anti-Christ, Armageddon. The audience is keyed as for war, sir. The first thing tomorrow morning we'll hit the east and midwest with the same media push, emphasizing the network morning shows. The guest lists are loaded with our people. Sir, by tomorrow morning you'll have a massive crusade waiting for your call to arms."
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Gillette: "You've done well, boys." A beat. "Timing. It's all in the timing. If we keep them on edge too long, the devotion will waver. And worse, our adversaries, the doubting Thomases, the bleeding hearts will start ganging up to work on our resolve. We can't afford debate. We've got to take the initiative. We've got to blow away resistance with explosive, irrevocable action. They won't be able to stop or delay the battle once the opening shot has been fired. Explosive, irrevocable action seals commitment. Even if the majority of the people doubt the validity of our stand, it doesn't matter. The army will be on the move. They'll have to join or be run over. And they will inevitably join. They can't stand against the righteous action of trustworthy people. But we can't miss our timing. If we miss the moment, our adversaries erode our power. It's all in the timing." He looked to the aide: "You said everything is ripe for tomorrow morning?"
Aide #2: "Once we catch the bulk of the morning shows in the east. Though there is some buffer. We've got the talk shows ready to fill in any slack in the schedule."
Aide #3: "We'll need it. The three hour differential gives us a challenge. We can't move with our crusade here on site before they've had their morning ...coffee. If we start ...whatever we have to do here, say, at eight o'clock, it'll be eleven in the east --we can't hold 'other voices' out much longer than that."
Gillette: "Then we've got to start things here earlier." Laughing: "If it were the real army, we could blow a bugle.n A pause. "However, regular noise will do fine, I think: talking, the rattle of pots and pans, a lot of walking around and about, feed-back on the loudspeaker --all gradually increasing in volume. The camp should be all up by ...five ...fifteen -- five thirty. There should be some carry-over intensity and sense of anticipation from tonight's work. I'd say the 'chants' and the pickets should begin by, ah ...six ...six fifteen at the latest. Have preachers and entertainment on stage by six thirty. I'll give my pep talk at ...seven sharp. By eight o'clock ..." he stopped.
The aides waited respectfully for Gillette to continue.
Goodman Gillette sipped his decaffeinated coffee slowly and placed the cup on the tray at his side. He allowed his head to rest on the tilted chair back and brought the fingertips of his hands together in a reflective mode. "We have to do it, you know. If we don't, the whole thing will fade away like the good old General MacArthur ...and he did, you know. He got his few cheers --but as a moving force, he faded away. This whole effort, the expense, the gamble is futile unless we do it. So we have to do it. There's no choice. The fat is on the fire and all that. It gives me a pain in my ulcer, but it has to be done. God knows our cause is just. God knows these people are evil. God knows the country needs some old fashioned God-fearing leadership for a change --God-fearing leadership that admits it's God-fearing. These people have nothing positive to offer society; they're the dregs, the hangers-on, the parasites, the weirdos. And nakedness is an aberration --a canker on Christianity's backside. Boys, we are the just. Our cause is righteous. That's not to say I look easy on what has to be done. I am not a violent man, you know that. God knows that. But there comes a time when God's foot soldiers have to take their stand --and in the taking, take on the overwhelming, but necessary, responsibility of bringing to our country the kind of leadership it wants ...it needs." Goodman Gillette shook his head slowly and sadly. "God, I wish we didn't have to do it."
All was silent in the plush bus. The aides knew where their leader was headed, but none wanted to be the one to put it to words. Gillette didn't either, but it was for him to say.
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"We have to burn at least one of them," he said with irrevocable finality. A long pause ensued, then: "It doesn't particularly matter which one or ones; just whoever the knight gets a hold of."
Aide #1: "We know there's one of them in the resort now; the one on television tonight, that Marianne Flanery, but ..."
Gillette: "But?"
"She arrived by car --drove herself in. One of our men was near the gate and heard her call her name to the guard ...so ..."
Gillette: "So?"
Aide #1: "If she's supposed to be magic, why'd she have to drive in through the gauntlet in a car ..."
Gillette: "Why didn't she just fly in?" He laughed wryly. "I guess she might not be ...as magical as the red-head."
Aide #1: "But if she's one the knight brings out --and she's not a witch ..."
Gillette: "It doesn't make any difference. She's been named, after all. And there won't be a trial. Not even a judgement. Only the burning. Witches will be burned."
Aide #1: "If he fails? If he doesn't bring one out ..."
Gillette: "We bring one out anyway. I've got a team, five of our guys -- playing like reporters ...been there since we arrived. They're our back-up. Should something happen to him, they'll bring ...somebody. But I have faith in our knight. He's a good man. He knows about the back-up. One way or another they made themselves known to him. He knows to call on them if there's an emergency. He's supposed to let them know when he makes the move. If there's a hitch, they'll help him."
Aide #1: "Why don't they just act on their own? Five heads should be better than one."
Gillette: "It's his ball game. He brought the key information about the 'Gang of Four' --including their names. Has their descriptions first hand, too. But most important, he thinks he knows how to neutralize this magic 'disappearing power' of theirs. Besides, it seems he has his own agenda ... his own crusade, so to speak." A pause. "Like you said, we know there's at least one inside there. A WITCH WILL BE BURNED."
His head still laid back and his fingertips still touching. "I leave the details to you boys. I know you will handle the responsibility with your usual well-oiled efficiency. Let me review the guidelines: first, only one witch needs to be burned --two would be better if he has them in hand; it would draw less sympathy for the 'lonely helplessness' of just one. However, two are quite sufficient to establish the point of power. More would be considered excessive; such is the way Christians would think. If there are more along for one reason or another, hold them safely aside Second, it has to be a quick burning --we want to give no time for second thoughts. Douse them --her, if there's only one --with plenty of gasoline ...maybe put them in an upside-down car hood or some such so there's enough residual gasoline to assure a thorough burn. We don't want a miraculous survival on this one. If there are two, burn them together; not one-two: a single dramatic effect is what we're after." A beat. "It feels creepy to be so methodically planning to torch somebody, doesn't it?" The aides looked at one another in tacit, uncomfortable agreement. "So we have to keep reminding ourselves, 'THESE ARE WITCHES. THEY ARE NOT HUMAN.'" He sighed and continued: "Third, for God's sake, make sure no individual is seen lighting the fire. Crowd around as close as the heat allows. Make sure the crowd doesn't see, and make damn sure the cameras don't see. Surround them
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when she's lit and during the heaviest of the flames. Understand, it's good for the people to know the burning is taking place --in fact, we want the point brought home that witches have been set on fire. However, the flames and smoke and all rising above the heads of the folks in the first row (OUR folks) should do the trick. But make sure LIVE bodies can't be seen burning. Near the end, while some fire still flickers, but when the witches are no longer ... moving, open up the scene for the audience and the cameras. The witches will be dead; and the crowd needs to know the deed has irrevocably been done. Fourth, get rid of the remains fast. Do whatever you think best --bury them, put them in a grinder, anything; but get them out fast." More silence. The worst of the discussion was over.
Gillette: "Timing is the key, as I said. Once we get her or them, go by my signal. Not one second before or later. Have them doused and ready for my signal. I'll touch my ear like this." He demonstrated. "The other most important element is to keep the crowd worked up. Get all the separate religions in camp involved ...excited ...convinced that our only salvation is to burn the Anti-Christ. Keep the chant going, "Burn the Anti-Christ, Burn the Anti-Christ." Build up the tension. On my timetable the match has to be lit by eight tomorrow morning. Have the crowd ready."
Aide #3: "And afterwards?"
Gillette: "Don't let them get a chance to mull over the deed. Keep them moving into the next step, which gets them personally involved in the whole action ...once they get their own hands dirty, they won't tend to focus on particular individuals (like us) for the burning thing; their share in the responsibility will be settled in their conscience. Have the crowd crash the gates. Set them on the task of burn, burn, burn ...burn the whole place down. Run over anybody who gets in the way. For God's sake, don't let our noisemakers be identified. But of course, they know how to handle the job of being a crowd's ...motivationists."
He turned to the aide on his right. "Make sure you get me slotted in for an all-network hook-up at precisely nine o'clock. Timing, you know. While the country's still in shock, they need the cool voice of the wise Goodman Gillette to set things in perspective." He chuckled to himself. "Meanwhile our fearless leader, the president, will be sitting on his hands, probably making some spineless comment about not condoning violence --but not making a move to stop us. The effect will be that he will be joining OUR bandwagon but only like a weak, indecisive sister."
He brought a hand to his chin as if suddenly remembering an important point. "Oh, yes --listen tight; it's crucial to our efforts. As I said before, keep the crowd here in camp busy and worked up in our cause. Allow no time for reflection. During the preaching and entertainment keep them cheering; keep their hands clapping. Circulate, circulate. As long as we keep them going, we're their spirit. Here's the important thing: what we can't abide is a voice of conscience: it could kill us. That's why I asked the governor to close off access at the state highway at dawn. We want no fresh blood; no chance appearance of some glib bleeding heart to give the crowd pause in its resolve. We can easily shut off the loudmouths; it's the talented orator who could trash everything. I repeat, we have to keep the crowd from hearing a voice of conscience."
Aide #2: "A ...I. .."
Gillette: "What is it?"
"I know this has to be and all that ...but just on the ...on the million to one chance something ...fouls up ...shouldn't we like have ... an 'abort' signal?"
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Gillette thought for a moment, frowning. Then he looked at the aide with a slight smile: "Yeah, You might be right. It is good procedure, even if there's no chance for a mishap. So I touch my ear to burn 'em. But if I tug at my tie it means things are on hold. Then if I actually take my tie off, it means everything is off, and we all get our fannies out in a hurry. Sound good?" The aides nodded affirmatively.
Still smiling, he stood up and surveyed his subalterns from high over their heads. "Boys, I know this burning thing is ...unpleasant. But our whole effort falls unless we demonstrate the guts to do what has to be done. You don't take a leadership position --for long, anyway --unless you DO SOMETHING. Talk isn't enough. The very shocking nature of burning the witches will weaken any reaction ...delay it enough for us to ...win the day. Once the camel's nose is in the tent, you can't stop the rest, as they say. Yes, boys, if we pull this off --and we're going to pull it off --when we pull this off, the national... purpose will be arights again, and secure in ... worthy hands."
Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18
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After the Wilderness - Copyright 1990 by Gordon Kearns